Chapter 4:

No Lady

Under the dark velvet curtain of evening the wash of golden footlights beneath the arched galleries of the Victoria Albert gave it a distinctive Gothic look, the heavy pools of light and shadow playing over its massive central tower and flanking domes lending it the solemnity and appearance of an ancient cathedral. As Karma approached the main entrance from the street, he could practically hear choir music playing in the back of his head, the comparison to a church was so strong. He bounded up the steps to the wooden doors of the main entrance, a sense of excitement, of anticipation, putting an extra spring in his step. It had been so long since Karma had a reason to feel excited about anything; he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to bounce around with unlimited energy, with a sense of purpose, with a feeling that life was just a tantalizing buffet of endless possibilities, a succulent, never ending bounty laid out for him to devour. Karma felt more alive than he had been in years, and the intensity of this feeling had him buzzing, flying high, like he was on some kind of illicit drug. But Karma wasn't on any kind of drug. This feeling had one cause and one single focal point: Nagisa Shiota.

Couples in extravagant evening wear drifted past Karma as he waited nervously just inside the museum's entrance, sailing by him like overpriced pairs of graceful swans. Karma risked a glance down at his watch: 7:10. Nagisa was officially late. Karma tapped a patent leather foot against the sleek marble flooring. Nagisa where are you? he thought. If you stand me up, I'll never forgive you. Karma wasn't used to being stood up. If there was one area (besides hand-to-hand combat) that Karma excelled at with ease, it was romance. Karma had been the best looking boy in his class, a fact which he never forgot, and one which had paved the way over the years through several successful-if impermanent-liaisons.

7:20. Still no sign of Nagisa. A young lady in a maroon blazer and button down shirt approached him and said, "May I see your invitation, sir?" Karma distractedly pulled a cream colored envelope from inside of his jacket pocket and handed it to girl. She looked up at Karma, her eyes widening slightly, as she added, "And this would be your plus one?"

Karma felt a hand snaking around his elbow, taking his arm. "I'm his plus one," replied a husky voice. Karma turned his head to find himself confronted with a stunningly beautiful woman in a long black corseted gown, her eyes elongated like a cat's in winged black eyeliner, her electric blue hair brushed to one side, cascading over her shoulder like a waterfall made of cotton candy…

"Nagisa?" Karma sputtered in open mouthed shock.

Cat like eyes slid his way. "I'm sorry I'm late. I didn't think about the logistics of my bike versus this dress until it was time to go and, well, I ended up having to take a cab…"

Karma couldn't believe his eyes. It was true that Nagisa had appeared fairly girlish when he had come all guns ablazing into Albertson's suite yesterday, but that was nothing compared to the way he looked now. This was feminine turned up to eleven. If it hadn't been for the electric blue hair, Karma wouldn't have recognized him. He could have walked past him and had not even seen the Nagisa he knew-not in this gorgeous, mesmerizing creature. Even now, heads were turning Nagisa's way, the frank, appreciative stares raking him from head to toe. Karma took in the details of Nagisa's outfit: a long, black skirt with a dramatic slit up the side, a corseted bodice made of black leather, sheer sleeves and neckline made of dark, glittery gossamer fabric. After taking all this in, one word and one word only came to Karma's mind: Armor.

This was Nagisa's version of wearing armor.

A knowing half smile pulled at Karma's lips and Nagisa looked at him and said, almost sheepishly, "I'm sorry, is the dress too much? I had a black Armani suit I could have worn…"

Karma's smile widened a bit further. "I admit to being thrown a little bit off guard. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. My life has been lacking in surprises lately." Then he added, as he let his gaze wander appreciatively over Nagisa's ensemble:

"And what man in his right mind would say no to being with the most beautiful girl in the room?"

Nagisa had spent the previous two hours agonizing over what to wear.

On the one hanger, he had a stunning Elie Saab corset dress, on the other, a sleek black Armani suit. Nagisa had sat on the edge of his bed in a two star hotel in King's Cross, staring at them both, looking from one to the other, his mind a chaotic whirl of paralyzing indecision. Nagisa had thought back to the conversation he'd had with Irina, about how she had told him that planning a wedding had been far more stressful than planning an assassination. Nagisa was loathed to admit it, but she had been right. Navigating relationships-hell, navigating a simple social engagement-was hard. And thinking about the night in terms of an assassination, Nagisa's gaze had landed firmly on the dress. If he was going to approach this date like an assassination-and Nagisa had no other point of reference for dating-then it seemed logical for him to choose the dress. It was, after all, a weapon in of itself. It was beautiful. It was dark. It was alluring. It was deadly.

It turned him into something he was not. Something far more powerful and greater than himself.

Hesitating slightly, Nagisa's hand had reached out for the dress. Ah, just think, Nagisa, chirped an insufferable, intrusive voice inside his head. If your mother could see you now, she would be so proud…

That thought had stopped him dead in his tracks, had frozen his hand in mid air.

And there it was. The source of Nagisa's hesitation in choosing the dress. He knew the dress would have been what his mother would have picked for him, and that knowledge alone was enough to drive him away from it. Nagisa's eyes had ticked back and forth between the two garments like the large plastic eyes of a kit-kat clock. Stop it! a defiant fifteen year old's voice had screamed in the back of his mind. Just stop it! She doesn't control your life anymore, so why are you still allowing her to influence your decisions! You're an adult! You can choose for yourself!

And then, almost angrily, Nagisa had ripped the dress from its cheap wire hanger…

Nagisa was still working to dispel his mother's voice from the echo chamber of his mind as he entered the domed main floor of the museum, his arm linked with Karma's. All around him were members of London's upper elite, their angular, monochrome outfits a study in sartorial cubism, their icy yet somehow hungry stares brushing over him in both an impersonal and intimate manner. Karma leaned toward Nagisa, whispering, "You've got everyone in the room staring at you."

"At us," corrected Nagisa, shooting Karma a sphinx like smile. They walked up the stairs to the upper gallery, looking down on the large reflective pool in the museum's center courtyard from the vantage point of high, arched floor to ceiling windows. Golden lights shimmied and flickered along the water's reflective surface, blazing like the lit candles on top of a birthday cake. Nagisa caught Karma staring at him from the corner of his eye, the secretive half smile back on his face. "You're smirking again, Akabane. Does something about all this amuse you?"

Karma waited a moment before answering. "Your posture is tense, and your eyes have been combing every corner and exit of this place since the moment you first arrived. Not planning another surprise assassination, are we?"

"Not unless this second client of yours also happens to be a Russian gangster with ties to the Eastern European sex trade-"

"-what?"

"-Victor Albertson. Or should I say Ivanov. You know, your client from last night? He got a lot of his money from kidnapping little girls-some as young as twelve-and illegally transporting them over the Russian border and pressing them into prostitution-"

"-I had no idea. And he's not-he wasn't-my client. He was my parents'-"

Nagisa's eyes flicked towards Karma, who looked genuinely upset by this revelation. "Your parents should choose their business associates with better care," was all Nagisa said. Then Nagisa added, almost hastily, "And I'm sorry about last night."

"How so?"

Nagisa's eyes slid to the floor. "If I had known that was you in there with Albertson, I wouldn't have come barging in like that. I wouldn't have put you at risk-"

"-no, don't say it. Don't be sorry-"

"-why not-"

"-because you wouldn't be standing here with me right now if you hadn't come into that suite. So don't be sorry. I'm certainly not sorry. And if Albertson was the monster you say he was, then good riddance to bad rubbish, is what I say."

Nagisa smiled slightly at Karma's cavalier attitude. "You really don't mind it? What I did-"

"-I was in E class with you, Nagisa. I know what you are. I've always known…"

Nagisa's eyes softened, his rigid posture relaxing at these words. "It's funny, but I thought the reason you and I had stopped being friends that summer after D class was because you thought I was...that I was...dangerous to you somehow-"

"-no, you're absolutely right. That was the reason," confirmed Karma. "I knew you were dangerous-"

"-and now-"

"-and now, I don't care." Karma leaned into Nagisa, his lips millimeters from his ear as he whispered, "Now, I welcome it."

Nagisa felt an unfamiliar shiver tingling along his spine. "You certainly know how to flatter a girl, Akabane," Nagisa said softly.

The smirk was firmly back in place. "I'm glad. Because I thought it was going to take a lot more than that to get you to drop that defensive pose and let your guard down-"

"-who says my guard is down-"

"-you don't see it, beautiful, but right now you're wide open for attack-"

And with that, Karma leaned down and caught Nagisa's lips with his own. Nagisa's back hit the gallery's railing, effectively trapping him between it and Karma. Karma's hand slid up his back, beneath his hair, cradling the back of his head with his hand. Nagisa felt himself surrendering to Karma's machinations, felt his guard come crumbling down with a shattering crash. You may have surpassed him in the art of assassination, said a sneaky little voice inside his head. But you're waaaaay behind him when it comes to the intricate dance of love. In that moment, Nagisa allowed himself to do something he hadn't done in years: he gave up all his control to another person. He let Karma attack his mouth head on, let his tongue skirt along the perimeter of his lips, let him slip through all his carefully crafted defensives. Nagisa moaned slightly into the kiss as Karma's tongue swirled into his mouth, the sensation alien but welcome. Careful, said a tiny little voice in the back of Nagisa's head. You shouldn't allow him through all your defensives so soon. Breathless, Nagisa broke away from the kiss, his pupils dilated into wide onyx discs. A couple walking by them on the gallery gave them disapproving looks as they passed.

"Careful, Akabane, you're making London's finest nervous with your rather public displays-"

"-really? So they are the ones I'm making nervous, eh?" Karma asked teasingly, pleased with Nagisa's breathless reaction to his kiss. Karma felt confident in what he was saying and doing; despite the awkward start yesterday, he was back on solid ground here.

I don't know if you've noticed, but I've gotten pretty good at defending myself...

From guns and knives, yes…

Nagisa may have been a master assassin, but it was clear to Karma who had the upper hand here. Another word-one besides armor-came to Karma's mind. It was strange that he should think of it, but it was one which he thought perfectly suited Nagisa: Innocent. Despite all the leather and the bravado and the dramatic make-up, there was something just so tantalizing innocent about the way this particular version of Nagisa reacted to him. Again, Karma felt that giddy sense of paradox: this was a creature who regularly experienced visceral moments of violence and bloodshed, but who was also strangely innocent when it came to other people and their deepest, most intimate emotions.

Not to mention his own, thought Karma as he studied Nagisa's blown pupils, sanguine cheeks and throbbing arterial vein-all of which were telegraphing a signal of physical longing on Nagisa's part that the beautiful assassin himself seemed to be completely-and innocently-unaware of.

Slow down, Akabane, Karma thought to himself in a chastising voice. The night is young and there is still so much more yet to be savored. Smiling brightly, Karma took Nagisa's lace covered arm and led him away from the gallery. "Let's pretend we're back in school and ditch this boring, stupid Han dynasty exhibit. I hear there's a more interesting David Bowie retrospective in the south wing, full of his old tour outfits and papers with handwritten lyrics. Let's sneak off together and have a look at that instead, shall we?"

Karma felt his heart swell at Nagisa's collusive smile as the two of them slipped away like two misbehaving teenagers to go and explore the museum's shuttered southern wing...

Author's Note: Sorry, not much happened in this chapter except for some character building and shipping. I promise there will be more action again next week...